


Don't Be Like Me

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [149]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Other, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: The greenhouse door opened just enough to let the young woman slip through, but the movement was enough to make Dr Crowley look up from his lesson preperations. "You've grown a bit since the last time you did that," he informed her dryly
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [149]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 35
Kudos: 626
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	Don't Be Like Me

The greenhouse door opened just enough to let the young woman slip through, but the movement was enough to make Dr Crowley look up from his lesson preperations, turn on the bench he was sitting on, and fix her with a steady stare. "You've grown a bit since the last time you did that," he informed her dryly, the corner of his mouth lifting very slightly.

Izzie grinned back at him. "A bit," she agreed. "I just wanted to say hello, before I run off to lessons."

"Oh? What subject? I know you're not on my list for Botany."

"Politics." She looked down, scuffing a toe on the hard path and then back up at him, taking a deep breath. "I want to fix things for other people like you fixed them for me."

His face went blank for a long moment, his dark glasses unreadable. Then he swallowed, and shifted position. "Don't be a second me," he said, almost gently, ignoring how her face fell at that. "Be the first you. That's more important."

"I still want to fix things for people."

"Good," he said, and his voice warmed alongside the wry tone of the word. "You'll probably hear a lot of nasty things about me, studying here. First lesson of politics. Keep your mouth shut until you know what you need to say."

She nodded, her face brightening again. "Already have. Only, I know better than to believe it all."

He snorted. "Of course you do. And you'd best be going, or you'll be late."

"I'm off, I'm off!" she laughed, and scuttled back out the door.

The Botany students arriving through the other door caught only the echo of laughter and a glimpse of someone leaving, but it was enough to make them look at each other and wonder. Enough to raise rumours and speculation later. But for now, they faced the grim dark glasses of Dr Crowley as he began the lesson.

***

Crowley had shoved the implications of Izzie's little speech aside so he could focus on teaching, but they came roaring back once the day was over. What had things come to that he, rather than Aziraphale, was inspiring people to take up doing good deeds? He closed his eyes for a moment and kneaded his budding headache before kneading his leg as well. "Don't be like me," he repeated in a whisper. "Don't fall for the bright and shining spirit that promises answers with silver-tongued words, that promises to make everything better - and then drags the entire crowd down with him. Be better than that. Be more than that. _Please_." It wasn't quite a prayer.

Izzie was bright and fierce and strong and stubborn, and he couldn't quite believe that someone like that would look up to him as someone to emulate. He didn't want her, or anyone, to go through what he'd been through. To have to pick themselves up after everything fell apart, after everything shattered, and put themself back together, piece by broken piece, into a scarred mess that was only somewhat functional. He was never going to be what he once was, what he could have been without that Fall from Grace. Nobody, really, was ever going to forget that he had fallen, had done the unforgiveable, or let him forget that for long.

But still, that was no reason to give up.

He had Aziraphale. He had duty. He had things that he could live for, that he would live for, making his way from one to the next, and hauling his duckling godchildren back onto the path, back to safety, when the world conspired to try to kick them down into the depths.

He drew a deep breath gathered his things and went out to take his angel home. He may have been the first person Aziraphale had taken under his wing. He was never going to be the last - and equally, he was never going to let his husband do the work alone.


End file.
